


Sex Is Nothing to Be Ashamed Of

by dragonspell



Series: Sex Is Nothing to Be Ashamed Of [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alpha Mick Rory, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Leonard Snart, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Leonard Snart, Top Mick Rory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard Snart is an omega.  He's known ever since he was young, just as surely as he'd known that he <i>couldn't</i> be one.  An alpha, a beta, not an omega.  He's come to terms with it over the years but that doesn't mean that it doesn't have its inconveniences.  Leonard despises his heats.</p><p>(Or, due to Leonard being in jail, he's unable to suppress his upcoming heat.  Mick helps him out.  Slight spoilers for The Flash episode 2x09, though obviously AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Is Nothing to Be Ashamed Of

“Sex,” Leonard’s first sex-ed teacher had said, “is nothing to be ashamed of.” He’d gone on to outline the basic differences between alphas, betas, and omegas and had stressed that no designation was inferior to the other. They were all simply people no matter what their biological wiring happened to be and all deserved to be treated with respect and have their needs taken care. It had been rather inspiring to a twelve year old. 

The teacher had been fired the very next semester. “Corrupting the minds of youth.”

The next class that Leonard had found himself in had been one of all alphas, the sexes having been separated out into different classrooms. Leonard had pretended that he belonged. You were supposed to know, after all. And he did. He knew all too well.

There were tests and such, but until you actually presented, they were all stereotypes and psychology—easy enough to fake. Alphas, betas, omegas, they were all exactly the same—until they weren’t. 

People had assumed and Leonard had learned to lie, because despite what his former teacher had said, Leonard knew that there was nothing worse than being an omega. Up in polite society, omegas were basically worshipped, but down where Leonard lived?

He couldn’t be an omega. An alpha, a beta, never an omega.

So he sat through the class listening to all the things he had to do in order to be a good alpha for an omega, hoping that it might help him someday if he reversed the advice, and stuffing his fear down deep where it didn’t show. He’d secretly glanced at the boys around him and hoped that he never presented. He didn’t want to know what these boys who laughed and joked around him would do if he ever did.

The thought made him shiver. Leonard wouldn’t let himself admit that it was not just in fear. Fear was bad but the other was worse. He hated the dreams that he sometimes had, the little snippets that snuck up on him unaware, playing out the what-ifs. What if he did…?

No. 

Leonard buried them deep, too. He washed the sheets and pretended to his father that he didn’t remember. “You will,” his father had said with a wink and a swig of his drink, for once vaguely proud of his alpha son. His not-an-omega son.

And Leonard had lived in terror of puberty catching up to him.

In juvie, it had almost gone to hell. In a place with no privacy, it would be hard to avoid the knowing looks. If his first heat hit him in juvie, there would be no escape. If the hormone-driven alphas didn’t get him, then the doctors would. Leonard would be caught. _Labeled_. If that were to happen, he thought, he should just stab himself immediately. 

It would be better to be dead than to live through all of those things that his father had said happened to omegas. 

He’d lived the first day, thanks to Mick, same as the second and the third. After the first month, Leonard had stopped counting. He made it through his 18 months and was released back into the not-so-loving arms of Central City. Two months later, Mick had joined him and their lives had never been the same.

Leonard didn’t present until he was sixteen. A “late bloomer” as the medical books said. For awhile, Leonard had wondered if his instincts had been wrong and that he wasn’t going to present as an omega. If he wasn’t going to be anything. Perhaps he was just screwed up. That would be about right, fit right in with his already screwed up life. He thought that he could be happy with that.

He’d almost convinced himself of it, too, right up until the point that his heat had taken him straight to his knees, his body ready to combust at the slightest touch and an unending primal need overwhelming his higher brain functions. “Fuck,” Leonard had moaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Alone in the house for the moment, he’d dug his hands into his pants and fisted his cock until it felt raw before finally giving in and shoving a finger into himself. 

It hadn’t been enough.

Two, three, then moving on to whatever Leonard could get his trembling hands on to help ease the ache. Everything just seemed to make it worse, make it more obvious just how _empty_ he felt. Remind him of how much he needed.

When he’d finally managed to come, it hadn’t felt so much as relief as it did that Leonard was finally succumbing to the heat inside of him and dying, burning alive. He’d panted and crawled to his bedroom, pretended that he was sick for the next few days.

At least his father was in jail and Lisa was too young to understand. 

When he’d finally been able to walk without his knees threatening to buckle again, when he was sure that he could form a fist that didn’t include his cock again, he’d taken himself down to the clinic. The doctor had asked him all kinds of invading questions like what other medications he took, when his first heat had been, if he’d had any sexual partners, what he preferred in bed, if he knew what being safe meant, and Leonard had gritted his teeth and answered all of them. 

When the doctor had gone to write in his file, Leonard had finally pulled out the gun and told the man that the prescription was all Leonard had come in for and it was all Leonard was going to be leaving with. There was going to be no permanent record of his visit.

He’d been on suppressants ever since, taken them on a schedule as carefully regimented as one of his jobs. Pills, shots, whatever Leonard could get his hands on. He didn’t care as long as the heat stayed away and Leonard was able to keep his mind his own. He _despised_ his heats.

Leonard doesn’t want to be _claimed_ , to be _owned_. All of that shit that they had talked about in sex-ed had been the stuff of nightmares. To just roll over and let some guy pound him until there was nothing left? And that he’d want it? That was worse, to think that not only would he be forced to let some jackass fuck him, but that he’d actually _want_ it. That he’d moan and squirm and beg for it. That he wouldn’t be Leonard anymore, he’d just be some omega in heat, a mindless creature wanting to be fucked.

Death would be preferable. 

As the years had gone on, Leonard had managed to find a little bit of peace with himself. Yeah, sure, the idea of being one missed dosage away from losing his mind for a few days was still terrifying, but being an omega had its perks. They’d never covered it in sex-ed. Or maybe it was supposed to come later, though Leonard doubted that.

See, omegas, due to their heats, whether suppressed or not, were pheromone factories. Leonard didn’t try to understand the science behind it. He just liked the results. He vaguely remembered that teacher from long ago that had said something about omegas once being worshipped as deities in certain cultures because of their powers of persuasion and he wondered if his little manipulations were related, but he never delved too deeply into that line of thought. All he really knew was that he had an uncanny knack for getting people to listen to him, to follow his commands, stick to the plan like he wanted them to, and it seemed to work better the closer he got to finishing a cycle. One of the doctors that Leonard had been to over the years had said something about elevated levels and rare presentations. Seven percent of the omega population or something, and “I’d love to get a few more blood samples, if you wouldn’t mind” (yes, Leonard did mind; he’d shown himself out and hadn’t asked again). Whatever it was, it worked especially well on alphas, especially the stereotypical, muscle-bound rageheads who could be stopped mid-caveman rant with a few words in a certain tone of voice. A few minutes with Leonard and they’d walk out the door and do whatever Leonard told them to do without a second thought and be happy about it too. That was rather funny, Leonard thought.

Turn-a-bout being fair play and all. Someone else being controlled by Leonard’s out of control hormones for once.

The “elevated levels” were a double-edged sword, though. They allowed Leonard to influence those around him, but they also tended to overpower the milder suppressants. He needed the good stuff or he’d be able to feel the dulled echo of his heat attempt to surface. It was unacceptable. More than once, Leonard had caught himself eyeing a few alphas in his crew or on the street, wondering if it would be so bad to just give in before he’d figured that out.

Prison put a crimp in his plans, but a few bribes to the right people, combined with Leonard’s rep and a threat or two kept the right drugs coming to his doorstep with no one the wiser. After all, a crude suppressant could be made with just a few common ingredients. Tasted like dog shit but if he ate enough of it, it did the job along with the case of pills stolen from the infirmary.

That was before The Flash, do-gooder extraordinaire, had decided to inform the authorities that Leonard Snart wasn’t fit to be housed in general population, that he needed to be moved to the special “meta-human wing.” A nightmare waiting to happen because those in the meta-human wing? Didn’t have contact with anyone but the unbribable guard that delivered their meals and disposed of their shit. _God_. Leonard had offered the guy money, favors, even insinuated that there could be a whole lot of sex happening if only the guy would get him a few harmless items. Nothing. After awhile, he’d written a note saying that he had certain dietary restrictions and needs but the warden had called up a nutritionist that had started asking so many questions that Leonard had dropped the excuse like the live firecracker it was. After a month of failed attempts, Leonard had, in a fit of desperation, tried to out and out seduce the warden. No dice because the warden was not only not an idiot, never letting himself be alone with a prisoner, but a mated beta to boot. On betas, Leonard’s pheromones were only suggestions at best, and seemed to be completely dependent on the libido of his target.

So here he sits, in his lonesome little cell in Iron Heights, feeling a heat starting to build in his gut that he hasn’t experienced in years and he’s forced to confront his bullshit head on. It’s humiliating. It’s nauseating. 

It’s terrifying.

He’s going to be found out and then everyone will know what he’s been hiding for the past thirty some years and his only saving grace is that at least his father won’t be here to be disappointed in him. That’s if he lives through it. Leonard’s gone through his heat a few times since that miserable experience when he was sixteen and none of them had gone any better than that first go around. Heats were not meant to be spent alone. Judging by the way the prisoner in the cell across from him—a man apparently made of some sort of stone—keeps glancing suspiciously at the cells around him and sniffing the air, this one Leonard just might not be going solo on. The bars are meant to hold angry meta-humans. Leonard doesn’t know if they’d withstand rut-addled alpha meta-humans.

He sinks back into the corner of his cell and tries to focus on anything other than the fire flickering inside of him. It’s starting to radiate to his limbs, make him shake if he doesn’t control it and Leonard knows that he’s got a day at the most. Twenty-four hours before he’ll be writhing on the ground, desperate for an alpha to stuff him full. It might be the stone guy. Hell, it might be the guard. Betas aren’t immune to a full-blown omega heat.

That’d be ironic, Leonard thinks bitterly. All the jackass had to do was slip Leonard a few herbs and an over-the-counter, given-out-for-free-in-the-infirmary pill and all of this would have been avoided and now he’s probably going to fuck Leonard on the damn floor whether he wants to or not. Leonard hopes that the guard will hate himself after. Maybe stone guy will join in.

Leonard closes his eyes. Thirty years of careful planning and this is what it all comes down to. It’s too late to stop it even if he wanted to. He knows that from experience. His dealer had come up short once, promised a new batch and Leonard had stupidly believed him. The guy had been pinched by the police a few hours later and Leonard hadn’t known because he’d gone out of his way to make sure that there were no ties between him and the dealer. No one had thought to tell him. By the time he’d gotten a hold of a suppressant, the shakes had already started and Leonard had had to offer a whole lot of flimsy excuses for why he was postponing the job and why Lisa couldn’t see him.

The crew had thought that he’d come down with the flu. Lisa had seen straight through him.

Mick, he’d been in jail. That’d been good. Leonard had spent the next few days curled up with one of Mick’s jackets, just getting off to the smell. He’d told Mick later that the jacket had ended up getting burned.

It wasn’t a lie. Leonard had burned it as soon as the heat was over.

Mick… Leonard wishes that Mick were here. He’d have found a way to get Leonard his suppressants. He wouldn’t have even known what they were for, just would have gotten them because Leonard asked, even if he had to break Leonard out to do so. It was one of the things that Leonard appreciated about Mick.

Mick is nice. Even for an alpha. Especially for an alpha. He’s laid-back and practical. Alpha, beta, omega, Mick doesn’t seem to give a fuck as long as you’re useful and don’t get in his way. If Mick has ever had an omega, Leonard doesn’t know. Wouldn’t know. Mick isn’t the type to brag about things like that. He’d rather tell you about the fire that he started down on Fifty-six and Jackson.

Yeah, if Mick were here, Leonard would like it. Mick would come into his cell, all calm and relaxed because for a hotheaded pyromaniac, Mick can be oddly soothing at times. And Mick would know. He’d take one look at Leonard and he’d know. And then he’d…

He’d what? Leonard asks himself. He’d fucking what?

Leonard snarls and pushes himself to his feet. He’s already starting to fantasize. Is he really that fucking weak? Can’t even handle one lousy heat without pining for alpha dick?

Leonard crosses his arms and leans back against the table. He takes back what he thought earlier. No, he hopes that the guards call the warden down to look at him and it’s the warden that takes him on the dirty cement floor. How’s _that_ for justice?

And it’s at that moment when Leonard notices Mardon standing outside his cell, a grin on his face and a glob of ice already generating between his hands.

“So, early parole,” Mardon says with a grin. “You interested?”

Fuck yes.

* * *

Of course, Mardon takes a few long sniffs at the air and shoots Leonard a confused look. “Do you smell that?” he asks.

“The smell of stale piss and mold?” Leonard shoots back. “I’m trying not to.” The stone guy is staring at him, a dim light bulb starting to go on in his head. Leonard needs to get out of here as in yesterday.

“No, the…” Mardon sniffs and Leonard heads him off at the pass. Even a moron like Mardon is bound to figure it out eventually. 

“Are we getting out of here or would you like to stick around for awhile longer and smell concrete? Maybe the Flash can show up and stick you in another cell right next to the one I was in.”

Mardon rolls his eyes and drops the issue, leading Leonard forward. Crisis averted. For the moment. 

They round a corner and pass by the meta-human infirmary. Leonard ducks in with a vague excuse that Mardon just shrugs at and comes back feeling marginally better. The spray had been created to help stop potential riots by lust-stupid alphas, masking the scent of an omega in heat and judging by Leonard’s limited experience with it, it seems to do its job alright. At least Mardon has stopped wrinkling his nose.

Now if only the suppressants worked to stop a heat already in progress. Mardon is a good looking man, sure. Leonard’s not blind and he can appreciate. Under other circumstances, he might even consider it, but as nice-looking as Mardon is, he isn’t someone that Leonard wants to spend days trapped with. Not to mention that Mardon is probably the type of alpha that thinks that just because he gets his dick into somebody that it means something. The kind that would take Leonard’s unwilling but unavoidable riding of his dick as proof of his genetic superiority or something stupid like that. Think that Leonard actually _wanted_ him. And then he’d come sniffing back around whenever he had an itch, thinking that Leonard will happily oblige him.

No thanks, Leonard thinks, and keeps his wayward desires to himself. That would be a hard pass. And it doesn’t matter how strong and agile Mardon looks as he strides down the hallway. Especially not when Leonard finds out that Mardon thinks breaking The Trickster out of prison is a good idea. 

James Jesse is a loose cannon on his better days. On his worse, he’s nothing short of a nuclear warhead, primed to take out everybody around him. He’s one that wears his crazy on the outside, so Leonard’s at a loss to see why Mardon’s blind to that fact. It might be hypocritical of him to say considering his profession, but there are just some people that deserve to be locked up. James Jesse is one of those people

Jesse’s also clever and crafty and Leonard dislikes him on principal. Competition. Or maybe it’s because Jesse’s an omega and he’s been aiming a knowing smile at Leonard since Mardon broke him out of his plastic prison. “You need a little _alone time_ with Manly Mark?” Jesse coos softly while Mardon goes to scout the rest of the building that he’s taken them to. Jesse laughs when Leonard snarls at him. “I wouldn’t mind waiting. He’s mesmerizing. And probably malleable, too.”

Leonard glares. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?” Jesse grins infuriatingly and Leonard’s opinion cements in his head. He hates this man.

He ditches Mardon and Jesse as soon as he’s able, Mardon clueless, Jesse definitely less so, and wants nothing more than to barricade himself in a safe house to get this whole thing over and done with. Only there’s a little voice inside his head telling him that he has something to do first and it sounds suspiciously like Barry Allen. 

Barry who would probably blow Leonard’s mind if Leonard let him. And yet another man that would think that sticking his dick into someone would mean something. Unlike Mardon, though, Barry would be thinking of things like love and commitment and honor.

Or, depressingly, of guilt and helplessness and that fucking honor again. Yeah, that’s a definite no, too. Besides, Barry’s a beta and while they’ll do in a pinch, they’re not ideal. Still, betas are easier to control and—

Leonard shuts down that thought before he has a chance to finish it and takes another sip of Barry’s stash of hot chocolate while he waits. It’s bad enough that his body can’t decide if the room smells more like Barry or Joe West and if it really cares about the difference. Leonard needs to get out of here.

He’ll warn Barry about Mardon and Jesse, return the favor that he owes for Lisa’s life and that will be that. Then he’ll go plant himself face first into a bed and fuck himself until he screams. It’s a plan. Not a particularly good one, but beggars can’t be choosers.

And Leonard is currently only one step up from being a beggar. He shudders.

Of course, the plan nearly goes to shit once Barry actually decides to show up. He’s a beta but betas aren’t exactly immune and Leonard ends up with a face full of Barry as he’s shoved up against the mantle. Leonard has to fight with himself not to go limp and take them both to their knees. He forces himself to appear normal even as Barry keeps sniffing and shaking his head because even his dulled senses are picking up on Leonard’s heat.

Barry should probably count his lucky stars that he’s not an alpha. It wouldn’t do for his guilt complex to end up fucking Leonard on the floor in front of his adopted sister/would-be girlfriend. And wouldn’t that be nice? She’s not too hard on the eyes, either. And damn it. Leonard shoves his thoughts back onto the path before he gets too far off-track.

Barry being Barry, he makes a few noises about taking Leonard back to prison but a few well-placed words and Leonard’s pheromones score a direct hit, with Barry shakily letting Leonard go. His eyes flare with unexpected heat and Leonard suppresses his grin. He likes knowing what he can do to the kid, to his “nemesis”, but he’s a few clear signals away from not leaving Barry’s house and that isn’t something that Leonard can allow. 

There’s a few more lines about Leonard being a hero but Leonard brushes them off. It doesn’t matter what the kid thinks, Leonard will never be a hero. He hasn’t had that kind of life. Fuck if some part of him doesn’t want to believe it, though.

So he leaves. The door closes on Barry’s heated eyes and his trim body that would respond just so perfectly, leaving Leonard alone. Leonard’s hands start to shake. He wants to open the door again.

He heads east. The safe house on Thompson isn’t ideal but it’s going to have to do because Leonard doesn’t think that he can make it anywhere else.

* * *

Leonard’s got his fist wrapped around a dildo, pumping it in and out of his ass and it’s nowhere even close to what he wants. What he needs. He pants into the pillow, nearly sobbing as he twists the silicone around inside of himself but it’s not enough. There’s no heat, no sweating flesh, no weight pressing him into the thin mattress.

And there’s no knot which might be the most frustrating thing of them all.

In Starling City, there’s a condo rented to a man that doesn’t exist and in it, there’s a toy locked in a hidden safe that expands once it’s seated inside its user. “Perfect for Helping Omega Heats” the packaging had advertised and it had blown Leonard’s mind the first time that he’d used it. Right now Leonard wishes that he wasn’t so paranoid and had twenty of them stashed around because Starling City might as well be a million miles away for all the good that it does him.

He shudders and finally gives in to the urge to whimper. As long as there’s no one around to hear him, Leonard doesn’t see the point in clinging to his illusion of dignity any longer. He’d lost it the moment that he’d stepped inside the safe house’s lone bedroom and locked the door.

His pants were near the door because they’d been the first to go, right after his boots that he’d snapped a lace on in his haste to get them off. His underwear is still wrapped around an ankle. Leonard hadn’t thought much further beyond getting them down and spreading his legs. As for his shirt, it’s still on, just pushed up far enough that he could maul his own nipples because they’re always extra sensitive during a heat cycle, acting like an express line to his cock, but it hasn’t helped him get any closer to cresting the hill into his first climax.

Nothing seems to be working. Leonard’s used every toy that he’s dared to stash and fistfuls of lube but his body just keeps winding itself tighter. For some reason that Leonard can’t even begin to figure out too, the room smells like a piece of heaven and it makes him ache. He can’t stop shaking and he doesn’t remember his heat being quite this bad last time. Sure, that had been twelve years ago, but, fuck, age should make this easier, shouldn’t it?

Didn’t he remember hearing something like that before? Back before he’d dropped out? Why hadn’t he bothered to pay attention in class? Didn’t he think that he’d need to know some of this someday?

_How to be a good alpha. Rule 1: Make sure that your omega knows that you care._

Leonard’s laugh turns into a sob. Fuck, that’s so not helpful. They hadn’t bothered to mention how to screw yourself into satisfaction. Maybe that had been covered in the omega class.

“Len?”

Leonard dumps himself off the bed, landing painfully on his hip, overworked nerves lighting up like Christmas trees up and down his side. Knuckles rap at the door as the locked knob turns and a familiar voice calls again. “Len? You in there?” Leonard holds his breath. How long has Mick been outside? “Look, Len, I already know you’re in there. So answer. Something wrong?”

Long enough apparently. “I’m fine,” Leonard replies, trying for somewhere close to his normal tone and ending up closer to a bitten off bark. He bites into the blanket to stifle his moan as he yanks the dildo out. Fuck, even if it hadn’t been doing the job, it had still felt good. He misses it already. He drops the toy to the floor, letting the lube goop onto the rug, before thinking better of it and picking it back up. He might need it later.

“You don’t sound fine.” Even with a door between them, Mick’s voice is twisting up Leonard’s insides, his body, fucking traitor that it is, reacting to what it knows is an alpha standing just out of reach.

Leonard tosses the dildo into the back of a drawer and pulls the other contents forward to hide it. “Well, I am.” Closer to the tone that he wants, but still not there yet. Leonard suspects that it’s a lost cause anyway.

“Mmm hmm. Can you open the door?” Skin sensitivity is already setting in. Leonard hisses as he pulls his underwear back up over his hips, wanting to shove them down again. He feels the same about his shirt as his tugs it over his chest. “Len?”

“Fuck off, Mick!” Leonard snarls. God, couldn’t the man take a hint?

“Could you get me a shirt at least?” Leonard pauses. What? He looks around, pulls out the drawer he’d stuffed the dildo in and runs to the closet. Well, fuck. Apparently Mick’s been living here. Leonard really could have chosen better. Leonard falls back on the bed. _Mick’s_ bed. He squirms at how the lube shifts inside of him.

“I can’t open the door, Mick.”

There’s a long beat. “Why not?”

Leonard sighs. “It wouldn’t be good.” Now that he knows that its Mick’s room, it’s obvious. The entire place smells like the man. Leonard drops his face into his hands and scrubs. No wonder he’d liked the scent. He’d inadvertently dropped himself into the bed of an alpha.

“Is it…” The door thumps, bracing against the inside jamb. “Oh.” Mick clears his throat. “Mmm.” Somehow his voice gets raspier. Leonard doesn’t know how, just knows that it sends a shiver through him. “Okay. Len. _Fuck_. Lenny. I won’t…won’t do anything, you know. I won’t hurt you.”

Leonard stares at the door. It would be easy, so easy, to open the door. And, no, Mick wouldn’t hurt him. Mick’s not that kind of guy. Mick would be all sweet and nice, if just for a little while, and Leonard wonders if Mick’s ever been with an omega before, if he knows what to do, if he’s gone through a heat before…but that’s all crazy talk because as far as Mick knows, Leonard’s an alpha, always been an alpha. Leonard’s not some needy omega panting after alpha dick.

“I know, Len. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

 _Know?_ Leonard drops the pillow that he’d been pressing to his nose and pulls his hand back out of his underwear _(when had he…?)_. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” The door thumps again. “God, Len, I can fucking _smell_ you. _Damn it._ I can smell you through the door, Lenny.” Leonard’s heart skips a beat. Mick… Mick knew.

It would be good with Mick. Wouldn’t it? So good. He’s thought about it before, just once or twice. Thought about what it might be like to let himself be with Mick. It was hard not to as he’d been with the man for thirty years, living with him on and off for most of it. They were practically married. What would it be to take that one last step? To let Mick have him?

Leonard’s lips twist. He would end up face down, ass up, getting good and used like those omega bitches in the pornos his dad used to watch, alpha growling about how the omega liked it and how he was going to get fucked good. That’s what alphas did. Leonard knew that. He’d even gotten off to the fantasy, too, more times than he’d really care to admit. It was all well and good to watch that kind of thing, to fantasize about it, but it wasn’t something that Leonard wanted in real life. That wasn’t _him._ Leonard didn’t want to be _owned_. Leonard wanted to be free, not some damn commodity.

No. Mick wouldn’t do that. He’s Mick. Except. Mick’s also an alpha. The point is that Leonard has no idea what Mick would do if Leonard were to let him in.

Leonard thumps back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. He can’t deny that a big part of him wants to open the door for Mick, to let him in and let Mick do whatever he wants to do. It’s just that it’s running up against his pride. He hasn’t bent over for an alpha in nearly three decades he’s been warring with his own hormones and he’ll be damned if he’ll do it now.

But he’s aching and Mick is _right there_. Damn it. Leonard wants to get the dildo back out. “If you can smell me, Mick, then forgive me for not trusting you.”

“That’s fair,” Mick rasps. “Don’t think I’d trust me, either.” Leonard smiles because that’s Mick all over, with his in-your-face, who-gives-a-fuck honesty. “So don’t open the door. You, uh, you just let me know if you need anything.” There’s another pause before Mick groans. Leonard groans with him. His hand goes back down into his underwear and he doesn’t even try to stop it. “I don’t think I can leave, Len. So I’m just going to be out here.” Leonard wraps his hand around his cock and strokes. “They say that the, the, you know, smell thing helps.”

 _Complementary pheromones_ , Leonard’s mind supplies, courtesy of a lesson he’d thought that he’d forgotten. Alphas produce pheromones during an omega’s heat in response to the omega’s own. Something about making the process easier though Len’s not sure if it’s because it calms him or down or because it makes him want to move closer. Makes an omega less likely to run away, he supposes. His fingers push lower, sliding into himself.

It’s not enough. It’s never going to be enough, not with Mick sitting on the other side of a door. Leonard’s body is craving the alpha that it knows is nearby and it’s not going to settle for anything less. The longer he takes thinking about it, the more he wants it. He wants to open the door.

Mick would be good. Mick’s not like Mardon and he’s not like Barry. He’s an alpha, sure, but despite what his more paranoid side is telling him, Leonard’s not so sure that Mick would give in to that stereotypical alpha behavior. If thirty years with the man has taught him anything, it’s that Mick isn’t your typical alpha—or typical guy for that matter. Hell, Mick’s not your typical _anything_. Leonard's little pheromone trick hasn't ever worked on Mick, which points to something being different at least. It's always been something that he's respected about the man.

And if Leonard’s honest, he’s not that overly worried about Mick getting all possessive over him later. In their own way, they’re already possessive over each other. Leonard laughs at himself. He wonders just how many opportunities that Leonard’s cost Mick over the years, driving away more than a few willing partners with one excuse or another. He knows that the whole alpha/omega thing probably had something to do with a few of those, not all but a few. Mick’s never seemed to mind, though, just taking Leonard’s little snits with a shrug and ending up back at whatever flophouse they were staying at, sitting on the couch with Leonard, because Leonard has never picked up _anyone_ when Mick was around.

Fuck, Leonard thinks. He’s been so damn obvious. And oblivious. 

It’s just…if they’re doing this, then they have to do it Leonard’s way. He can’t allow it otherwise. Leonard swallows. “Mick?”

“Yeah, Len?” Instantaneous.

Leonard stuffs a third finger into himself and licks his lips. “If I open that door,” Mick rumbles, soft and low, “then you’re going to have to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m in charge.”

Mick chuckles. “Don’t see how it’s much different than normal. Whatever you want, Lenny.”

Desire stabs into Leonard’s gut, sharp and painful, catching him by surprise. His mouth opens and his eyes go sightless for a moment while he rides it out. _Fuck_.

Somewhere inside of himself, he finds the ambition to pull his fingers out of his ass and move towards the door. His legs threaten to buckle the first time he tries to stand but he forces himself to stay upright. He totters to the door on shaky legs, instincts screaming for him to go to his knees and stay there and finally— _finally_ —opens the door that separates him and Mick. He braces himself against the jamb.

Mick’s on his feet and his eyes are trying to devour Leonard but his hands stay at his sides and he doesn’t move forward. Leonard feels a wave of relief chased by a tendril of gratitude. Both feelings are drowned out by the surging arousal that comes after. Mick looks like he belongs in one of those collections of soft-core porn that they call firemen calendars, suspenders holding up his thick pants, keeping them just high enough for him to be decent, and Leonard sees why Mick had been inquiring about a shirt. Mick’s is in tatters, ripped and burned. There’s a story there but Leonard doesn’t want to know it right now. He only wants the ruined shirt gone along with the rest of Mick’s clothes. 

Alpha. _His_ alpha. Mick belongs to Leonard from now until Leonard’s done with him, will let Leonard do whatever he wants. The possibilities nearly take him to his knees again. He catches himself on the door.

Mick rumbles. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m great,” Leonard replies and reaches towards Mick. His fingers skim over his bare chest, touching sweat, and Mick’s muscles shift under Leonard’s touch.

“Sorry,” Mick says. Leonard looks up from his contemplation of Mick’s chest and narrows his eyes.

“For what?”

“I’m sweaty.” Mick swirls his hand between them in an aborted gesture. “It’s the, you know. Reaction.”

Mick’s done a lot of things in his life worth apologizing for, whether he’ll admit it or not. Standing all covered in sweat and nearly shirtless isn’t, in Leonard’s opinion, one of them. “Oh,” Leonard says and curls his fingers around Mick’s suspenders. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

Mick raises his eyebrows. “No?”

“No.” Leonard tugs on Mick’s suspenders, yanking him forward and, unresisting but off-balance, Mick stumbles into him. “I like it.” Leonard lets himself bend his head and give into the urge to smell Mick. He ducks his head into the curve of Mick’s neck and fills his lungs with the heady scent. He follows his nose down towards an armpit, half-sold on the idea of burying his face there, too, until Mick groans like he’s dying. Leonard diverts himself back to Mick’s face. “Problem?” Leonard asks.

Mick shakes his head. “Whatever you want, Lenny,” Mick repeats. It sounds like it costs him.

It’s playing with fire, but Leonard can’t stop himself. “And what if I want you to fuck me?” Mick jerks and steps forward, propelling Leonard backward into the room. They get about halfway to the bed before Mick finds some semblance of control again.

“Careful,” Mick growls. His fingers dance along Leonard’s hips, unsure of their welcome but wanting to touch anyway. Leonard laughs, half-drunk on Mick’s pheromones, and licks along Mick’s stubbled jaw.

“You’re not going to do anything but what I say for you to do,” Leonard tells him. He finds Mick’s ear and bites down on the lobe, feeling how Mick shudders against him. It’s as heady as Mick’s scent. Leonard lets his hands trail downward, sliding over the hard muscle of Mick’s chest, fingers dipping into the holes and rips of Mick’s shirt to touch hot skin. He reaches the band of Mick’s pants and slips his fingers underneath.

Mick’s next groan is edged with a whine. “ _Please_ , Lenny.” His fingers dig against Leonard’s hips. “ _Please_.”

Faced with Mick’s obvious need, Leonard’s inner fire surges. “Yeah,” he whispers and finally drags Mick in for a kiss, hands cupping Mick’s jaw, locking behind his ears to keep him where Leonard wants him. To keep him where Leonard needs him. Mick’s scorching hot, nearly burning Leonard with the heat radiating from him, and Leonard pushes into it, crushing his lips against Mick’s. His tongue flicks against the seam of Mick’s mouth, demanding and insistent, invading the moment that Mick parts his lips. Mick meets him half way, tongue sliding under and around Leonard’s own, as Mick’s hands slip down to grip Leonard’s ass, fingers digging into the muscle. Leonard reaches back and seizes one of Mick’s wrists. He pants as he pulls away, his lung seemingly unable to get enough air anymore. “On the bed,” he orders, tossing Mick’s hand away from him. “Naked.”

Mick drops his head to Leonard’s shoulder, fighting the tremors. “Fuck,” he mutters. He pulls himself back together and steps back, eyes on Leonard as he strips off his suspenders one at a time, letting them drop to hang to his knees. Leonard licks his lips and Mick tugs at his shirt, pulling the ruined fabric over his head and tossing it behind him, revealing all of Mick’s toned, tanned chest.

Leonard shoves a hand back into his underwear to squeeze. He’s always liked a good show.

Mick finally tears his eyes away from Leonard’s. He pops the top button on his jeans and then turns towards the bed. The jeans drop to his thighs, then his knees, before puddling at his ankles where Mick steps out of them.

Mick’s never been much for underwear.

“How do you want me?” Mick rasps. He’s stopped, waiting for Leonard’s orders again, and Leonard steps behind him, presses against his heat to make both of them shudder. 

“On your back,” Leonard whispers, heart skipping a beat when Mick obeys. 

Stretched out on the bed, Mick’s left the softcore calendar pin-up look behind and has shifted into full on alpha porn star, all hard muscle and bared skin glistening with sweat, nothing held back. His eyes are dark and hooded as he watches Leonard look him over. Mick’s hand trails over his own chest, sliding through the light dusting of hair before delving into the thatch of dark curls at his groin and grabbing a hold of his thick cock.

Leonard moans. That’s going to be inside of him.

Mick’s bigger than anything that Leonard has taken before, bigger than anything that Leonard has dared to even think about. And he’s just going to get bigger. The thought of the knot has Leonard dropping his underwear and stepping forward. He drags his palm across Mick’s stomach, slicking himself with the sweat before finally giving in.

It’s hard to say who’s groan is the loudest, both of them echoing in the room. Mick’s eyes squeeze closed as his hips twitch upward, putting himself more firmly in Leonard’s hand. “Fuck, Len,” Mick grunts. Leonard can feel the burgeoning swell of the knot near the base of Mick’s cock.

 _It usually takes a compatible omega to make an alpha’s knot emerge, though the process isn’t dependent on it, nor is it a guarantee. Many alphas can have difficulty swelling to fully erect status, with a few never knotting at all. An alpha may also knot outside of an omega if sufficiently aroused._ Thank you, sex-ed.

Blood rushes through Leonard’s body, sounding as if his heat has become an actual fire, and Leonard takes a shaky breath before straddling Mick and lining up his cock. This is the hottest thing that has ever happened to him, he thinks. So much for fighting biology. Under other circumstances, he might have been bitter, but this is Mick laying under him, Mick waiting for Leonard to give them what they both want, and Leonard can’t help but think that it’s been a long time in coming.

“Lube?” Mick’s hands settle on Leonard’s hips again, holding him steady.

Leonard shakes his head. “Already taken care of,” he says, and sinks down.

The first push of Mick’s cock makes his jaw drop open with a gasp. Mick’s cock is hot where it touches him, soft but firm, and it slides into him so, so easily. A shiver works its way up and down Leonard’s spine and he arches against it, feeling as if every nerve in his body has suddenly tingled to life. Leonard lets the inches slide into him until he finally rests against Mick’s thighs. 

He’s full. He’s so goddamned full.

Leonard could stay here, just like this, for the rest of his life, just as long as Mick’s hard cock stays inside of him.

“Len, Lenny, fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Mick’s muttering underneath him. Mick’s hands glide along Leonard’s torso, pushing under his shirt until they find his nipples. They pinch and pull and tease and Leonard’s helpless in the face of the onslaught. He writhes, his hips rocking, shifting Mick’s cock inside of him with a rhythm that he can’t seem to stop, and they moan in tandem again. Leonard’s going to come. They’ve barely even started and Leonard’s going to come. Leonard can’t seem to stop himself, doesn’t want to. He just wants more of Mick and his beautiful, hard cock, wants to keep riding Mick, fuck him until they both forget their names and _Jesus Christ_ , Leonard is losing his mind.

“Stop.” He flattens his palms over his shirt and Mick’s hands. “Stop, Mick, _fuck_.” He bares his teeth and sits up, finding the ambition to stop grinding against Mick. Mick’s thick cock slips out a few inches and Mick tries to lift his hips to put it back in, but Leonard holds him down. “I said _stop_.”

Mick’s snarl is pure frustration as it degenerates into a needy whine. “Lenny.” His voice is rough like gravel. “Lenny.” He pants and growls, but keeps his hips still on the bed. “Whatever way you want it,” he says. “I’ll do it however you want, just, please, Lenny, let me give it to you.”

The fog clouding Leonard’s mind clears for a brief moment, the words cutting through. “I don’t want you to _give_ me anything,” Leonard growls. He glares down at Mick who looks up at him in helpless confusion. Leonard scrapes his fingernails along Mick’s skin. “I want to _take_ it.”

Leonard slams his hips back down, filling himself back up, and finds his rhythm again, taking what he wants from Mick.

“ _Christ_ , Len,” Mick breathes. He hangs onto Leonard’s hips, mouth dropping open and eyebrows furling like he’s completely dependent on Leonard’s nonexistent mercy.

Leonard feels Mick’s knot begin to swell. It catches against his rim, stretching him extra wide before he pushes it back inside of him for the final time, letting it fill him. He grinds downward, working his hips in small circles, needing the friction. Each movement rubs the knot against his insides and satisfies in a way that he hadn’t known was possible. His toes curl. “Mick…” he whispers and Mick starts to orgasm. Long, full pulses ripple against Leonard’s rim, Mick’s cock large enough that Leonard can feel as it jerks inside of him. “Oh.” Leonard’s lower lip trembles. He bites down and comes.

Stars explode behind his eyes.

When Leonard stops shaking and his mind clears enough to take stock of the world around him, he realizes that Mick is twitching beneath him, still caught in the throes of orgasm. It looks to be intense. A tendril of sympathetic arousal shivers across Leonard’s skin.

 _While usually lasting approximately five minutes, an alpha’s fully-knotted orgasm can last for up to twenty minutes, depending on how long it has been since the last knotted orgasm, the safety of the surroundings, and the compatibility with the receiving omega._

It’s pure instinct that makes Leonard rock himself gently on top of Mick, something in the depths of his brain telling him that it will help Mick, make it more enjoyable for him, even as it soothes a need inside of Leonard.

He’s never been with an alpha before, never watched one fully orgasm. He’s only bedded betas and all of the pornos that Leonard’s ever watched have cut to black after about a minute. Watching Mick beneath him, seeing how Mick shudders and gasps, fascinates him. He wonders why this isn’t in every bit of mainstream porn because Leonard doesn’t think that he’s ever seen anything hotter, not even in the depths of his heat. His dick twitches with interest and Leonard gives it a soothing stroke.

There’s something more, though, something easing inside of him. If Leonard had to categorize it, he’d be torn between slotting it into relief or fondness because it’s a combination of both and more intense than either of them. It makes his limbs languid and his skin warm, makes him forget where he is or what exists beyond the here and now. Leonard sighs, soaking in the contentment that spreads throughout his body. He knows that it’s probably something to do with pheromones or body chemistry, but he can’t be bothered to care.

He feels sated and relaxed and, with Mick under him, caught in the pleasure that Leonard has given him, he feels powerful. He likes the feeling. Something that he hadn’t even known he was missing slots into place.

Mick’s orgasm eventually lessens, his face slackening even as his knot keeps them tied. Leonard smirks down at him, still slowly rocking.

“Mmmm,” Mick hums appreciatively, his hand stroking Leonard’s thigh. “That feels nice.” He looks up at Leonard. “You doing alright up there?”

Leonard shrugs. His muscles are a bit sore from the workout, but it’s nothing that he can’t handle. The urgency of his heat has left, the fires banked at the moment even though he knows that they’re still burning and will be for a few hours longer. And his dick is lying hard against Mick’s stomach, the slow slide against Mick’s skin and the sympathetic reaction to Mick’s orgasm having brought it back to life. “Thinking about maybe going again,” he answers.

Mick smiles. “Yeah?” His fingers hover just above Leonard’s cock and he raises his eyebrows. “Like some help with that?”

“Been watching you come for hours now,” Leonard teases, pushes Mick’s hand down to where he wants it. “It’d be the least that you could do.”

“Hours, huh? Well, then, better get to it, shouldn’t I?” Mick strokes his palm over Leonard’s cock, his fingers sliding along the underside, and Leonard’s eyes flutter closed as his breath catches in his throat. Mick takes note and repeats the motion.

Mick’s always been good with his hands and he gets Leonard off in short order, his clever fingers quickly learning what makes Leonard gasp and what makes him shiver. Leonard’s second orgasm is more of a whisper than the explosion of earlier, but just as good. He rolls his hips to ride out the pleasure and laughs quietly.

“That good, huh?” Mick asks and Leonard glances down at him.

“Four out of five stars,” Leonard says. He lifts up to test the size of Mick’s knot, wondering if it’s gone down enough to separate them. It still catches inside of him, but Leonard thinks that it will only be a few minutes more before he can finally throw himself down on the bed beside Mick. The thought is rather appealing.

Mick grunts at the pull. “Just four?”

“Always leave room for improvement,” Leonard responds with a smirk. Mick rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’re off the charts,” Mick says. He looks away. “I ain’t ever been with someone better than you. Probably won't ever be.” And there’s some more of Mick’s own brand of honesty. Leonard swallows.

“It’s not over yet.” Mick nods because he’s been through the classes, too, knows that an omega’s heat typically lasts around twenty-four hours when attended to, three days if it isn’t, but that isn’t quite what Leonard’s talking about.

Leonard had known that he was an omega since he was ten. The other boys in the neighborhood had laughed and joked and Leonard had pretended to be one of them. Just as surely as he’d known that he was an omega, he’d known that he couldn’t be one.

This is perhaps the first time in thirty years that he’s been okay with the fact that he is an omega—not just accepted it or found it useful, but actually been okay with it. He’s not ashamed to be what he is and he can’t seem to find the fear that he once felt. He feels oddly free.

And he thinks it may have something to do with the man that’s lying underneath him. Leonard’s heart thumps in his chest as he leans over Mick. He presses his lips to Mick’s in a kiss, cool, dry, and ironically chaste as Mick’s still deep inside him. “It’s definitely not over yet,” Leonard says.

Mick stares at him, confused and beautiful, and Leonard kisses him again. “If that’s alright with you?”

Mick finally nods. “Yeah.” He smiles. “Yeah, Len, it is.”

“Sex,” he remembers a long-ago teacher saying, “is nothing to be ashamed of.” The man had said a few things about love, too, and at the time, Leonard had scoffed at him, cynical even at twelve. He thinks, though, that now he might have an idea what the guy had been talking about. It’s just taken him a few years to figure it out.

“Good,” Leonard says. “Because I’ve got plans.”

Mick’s smile turns into a full-on grin. “You’ve always got plans.”

“True.” Leonard rests himself on top of Mick, letting Mick carry his weight. His plans are already starting to make plans of their own, possibilities stretching towards the horizon.

Leonard thinks that he might just skip the suppressants and let his next heat happen. As long as Mick is up for it. There’s that condo over in Starling City that would work quite nicely.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be _short_. I don't even know, man.


End file.
